


Choke

by HannahLydia



Series: Kinktober '18 [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Atlas CEO Rhys, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Kinktober, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 18:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16164524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahLydia/pseuds/HannahLydia
Summary: Nobody else saw this side of him. Here was Handsome Jack, head of Hyperion, oh so vocal and plunged deep, deep in the throat of his company's rival. The board would have a fit if they knew. CEO of Atlas within spitting distance of confidential company figures? It gave "in bed together" a whole new meaning.PWP with an unoriginal title, woo! For the 'deep-throating' Kinktober prompt.





	Choke

**Author's Note:**

> Set post-TFTBL canon, rival CEOs. Jack is back in the physical flesh; I still need to write this headcanon up into an actual fic but it's not neccessary for a PWP. 
> 
> This was typed up on mobile so please forgive any errors that may have slipped through!

No matter how many times Rhys objected to being called "kiddo", Jack always found a way to slip the nickname in all the same - usually when his cock was part-way down Rhys' throat and he was entirely incapable of voicing an opinion on the matter. Nevetheless, the sounds Jack were making right now _more_ than made up for being patronised.

"Thaa-aat's it, kiddo..." The older man encouraged, voice thrumming in such a way that it felt as if it was reveberating way down within Rhys' own ribcage.

Rhys looked up at him beneath lidded eyes that pricked with tears of strain, feeding off of the expressions that he saw there. One moment a hiss, the next a scowl, the next slack-jawed and moaning low in his throat.

The large hand that was fisted in Rhys' hair was mussing his perfectly slicked-back style while applying just the right amount of pressure to the back of his head. A reminder that he daren't pull back.

To the untrained eye, it would appear that Jack was very much in charge, as ever. He was propped up in bed as if he had been reading (he had been; mind-numbing trading reports from accounting), with his legs splayed out and Rhys lying, sprawled, between them. But then again, no one was to know that _this_ was when Rhys felt most in charge. Or maybe it was when he felt the most privileged? Either way, to hear Handsome Jack groan praise and subtly drive his hips forward was a reward unto itself. Nobody else saw this side of him. Here was Handsome Jack, head of Hyperion, oh so vocal and plunged deep, deep in the throat of his company's rival. The board would have a fit if they knew. CEO of Atlas within spitting distance of confidential company figures? It gave "in bed together" a whole new meaning.

Tonight's blowjob had started off as a simple distraction - a way to make the company expenses and profit margin easier to swallow. In Rhys' experience, a sucked dick and a cupped ball or two always helped to 'settle' Jack. It mitigated his foul temper, but more than that it stopped him - sometimes - from bringing his work to bed. Now the tablet had fallen from his grip to the bedsheets and his full, undivided attention was on Rhys alone.

He was still wearing his mask - Rhys had learnt the hard way that they weren't _quite_ at the stage where he could ask him to remove it - and Jack's expression was like a storm, full of charged promise, his eyebrows almost ferociously low over his eyes. 

"Oh, you're gettin' _better_ at this, cupcake..." He grunted, tugging on his hair, and Rhys' ego swelled as a result. The younger man's mismatched eyes narrowed, smiling with them where his mouth could not.

Jack's size had always presented a challenge - he was well-hung where Rhys was not and he had set his gag reflex off more times than he could count. It had taken him a while to work up to this, but practise had made perfect. With those few words of praise, he dared to push forwards and take that last inch down his throat. Rhys' nose pressed into the tangle of Jack's body hair, seeking his eyes with his own. _Hey,_   _I'll show you 'better'._ _You see_ ** _this_** _, Jack? Not too shabby, huh?_

He was just about to move, to press his tongue flat to the underside of the shaft, when the storm upon Jack's face broke.

"Fu-uck...!"

Jack gripped him with both hands now, hips rutting with such speed and tenacity that Rhys felt like his eyes were going to roll back into his head. He relaxed his throat, submitting to it at first, allowing Jack to take the lead. Then, after a particularly aggressive thrust reactivated his need to retch, Rhys decided to claw back some of the control. His cybernetic hand came down hard on Jack's thigh, pinning him to the bed and stopping him mid-thrust.

Jack let out a tangled, angry cry. " _Rhys,_ that's--! Fuck, that shit's friggin' cold, you little--!"

Ignorant to his plea, Rhys drew back. His mouth left Jack's erection with a slick, wet pop, a string of spit threading the small distance between them.

"Do you want this or not?" He said, cutting him off. He pressed down with both hands on legs that tried to wrestle him off, rigid against the palm that tried to force him down and ignoring the thrust that strived to rejoin Jack's cock with his swollen lips.

"Are you _shittin' me right now_?" Jack sounded incredulous, furious and a little bit in awe. His voice took on a higher pitch, like it always did when he was particularly wound up. "I'm fucking your damn throat and you ask me if I _want this_? Seriously?!"

"My pace, Jack," Rhys said firmly, cocking an eyebrow as he held his gaze. He wasn't going to move on this. It was his way or no damn way at all. "You want to ruin a good thing until I'm spilling my guts on your silk sheets?"

Jack groaned. It wasn't an attractive sound. "Come _onn,_ baby, you can take it _,"_ He sounded really impatient now, his hard-on bobbing in Rhys' line of sight, pre-come spilling at his tip. Even though he was complimentary, he spoke as if it were obvious. Annoyingly obvious.  "You're a freakin' champ, okay? Just-- Jus' put your mouth back where it freakin' belongs,"

"And let _me_ do the work?"

" _Fine,_ jus'--"

Rhys didn't let him finish. He lunged forwards and closed his mouth around him once more, taking Jack's length all the way. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard, and without the commanding drive of Jack's lower half he managed to begin bobbing his head. Setting his own pace, his own limits, feeling Jack throb, his glans sinking into his throat...

"Son of a _tai_ \--" Jack's words were bitten off by a moan of his own making, the word 'taint' caught on the vowels and hanging suspended in the air. His hips stilled, and Rhys felt him go slack, resting back into the pillows as he worked him with his mouth. If he'd have looked up, he would have seen Jack screwing his eyes up tight, but he was too preoccupied to even feel the way his grip on his hair loosened, the way it began running through it almost affectionately. Almost.

He could taste Jack's pre-come, salty on his tongue. Rhys' hands gravitated to the handle of Jack's hips, anchoring himself there as he thrust his head to and fro faster.

God, he was so big. So thick, too. If he wasn't careful, this dick would send him to the Hyperion med bay one of these days. _That_ would be an experience he would prefer to avoid.

Above him, Jack's voice was strained. " _Rhys_... Rhysie..."

At the sound of his own name, Rhys' own erection began pulsating needily. He was grinding into the mattress, working up some friction, wanting to touch it but not wanting to risk removing his hand from Jack's temporarily tamed hips.

"... Fuckkk-! Lemme hear you choke on it, princess. Jus'-- Jus' once, goddamit..."

_Oh... fuck..._

Rhys finally withdrew his left hand to jerk his own cock, his right hand slipping to the sheet, taking the weight off of Jack's hips. He gave in. It was too easy to give him what he wanted when he made it sound so good.

Free to thrust as he pleased, Jack began clutching hold of the sides of Rhys' head, his thumb pressed to the port at his temple. He made a sound like a growl and began driving his length in and out of his mouth, no mercy, so that when he slammed in deep, Rhys didn't have to muster up the strangled, choking sound. It came naturally.

"Oh, _yeah! That's_ what I'm talkin' about, babe-" Jack's voice was laboured, and barely audible over the lewd, wet sounds of Rhys gagging on his cock. 

Jack's dirty-talk aways felt like he was giving Rhys a literal hand. His words shot through him like a bolt of electricity, pooling in Rhys' groin, making his fist pump faster as he jerked himself off.

"-- such a freakin' slut for me, aren't ya, Rhysie? You want my come, kid? You want it?"

Rhys couldn't even gargle a yes.

He looked up at Jack with wet eyes, pleading with them, his face and neck burning. He made another choking sound in his throat, certain he might shoot his own load then and there between his stomach and the bed.

Jack caught his eye and groaned, his tanned body tensing, his thrusts becoming wild and sporadic. When he came, he convulsed and pressed Rhys down to the hilt. The thick ropes of his release shot straight down the line of his throat, past Rhys' tastebuds, where he could only feel the sensation of having swallowed something warm. Until the aftertaste would hit him like a bitch, at least.

Rhys swallowed again, pulled back for air and inhaled like a man half-drowned. Sure enough, the after-burn set in, and he blindly  reached across Jack for the glass of water he knew was there on the bedside table. He couldn't help a hacking cough before gulping back half the glass.

Jack was sunk so far back into the pillows that it would have been almost comical, except for the way he looked like he'd just been in a wrestling match. His face was all sweat and hard lines, murderous even. He breathed raggedly, riding out his orgasm, and when his blue eye finally opened a pinch to look at Rhys, he managed a devious, victorious smile.

"Keep sucking cock like that, cupcake, and I might just have to keep you around,"

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Rhys flashed a conspiratorial grin back. "Yeah?"  _Promises, promises_ _._ _"_ Well. We'll see about that,"

He relinquished the glass and removed the datapad from the unoccupied expanse of the bed, shelving that too before lying on his back beside him.

Much as he wanted to spoon up to Jack's side, they weren't the cuddling type. Yet anyway. Who knew if Jack would _ever_ be the cuddly type? Rhys felt it best never to chance it, even if his own needs sat wistfully on his chest like a stone.

They led side by side like roomies rather than lovers, staring up at the ceiling with mirrored arms tucked under their heads.

"... Jack?" Rhys said finally, resisting the very real urge to curl up to his side and rest his head on his chest.

His former boss subtly turned his head to look at him, one eyebrow raised, the tight line of his lips caught midway between a frown and a smile.

Meeting his eyes before glancing back up at the ceiling, Rhys let out a soft, amused sigh. 

"... Stop calling me kiddo,"


End file.
